Flying Dreams
by Alexander of Gryffindor
Summary: Our daughter always seemed too young for everything. But Harry is waiting for her. And I cannot escape the memory of the song I used to sing her . . . 'And love, it seems, made flying dreams, to bring you home to me.' Songfic to Flying Dreams.


_Disclaimer: All characters and familiar settings herein are creations of J.K. Rowling. Copyrights to them are held by her and by others assigned them by her, in which category I am not included. The song "Flying Dreams," from the movie "The Secret of NIMH," is by Paul Williams, lyricist, and Jerry Goldsmith, composer. It too is under copyright; don't ask me to whom.

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She hovers there, swathed in white, floating down the aisle the parted crowd forms across the yard. Her father guides her, the streak of a teardrop down one of his cheeks, the gray in his hair nearly overtaking the red. No matter our gray hairs, our daughter always seemed too young for everything. But Harry is waiting for her. And I cannot escape the memory of the song I used to sing her.

_Dream by night  
Wish by day  
Love begins this way  
Loving starts when open hearts  
Touch and stay_

She was such a vigorous baby, and so determined. I would set my Patronus over her crib to watch her, and she would grab at the pretty silver nightingale as though she thought she could catch it. Sometimes it would dance out of her reach; sometimes her hands would pass through it. But she never stopped trying. And it always made her smile.

_Sleep for now  
Dreaming's how  
Lovers' lives are planned_

She must have understood the words more literally than I did. The year I started singing that to her was also the year I told her about Harry, told her that there was a boy, just a little older than she was, who had saved us all.

I think she started dreaming of him then.

_Future songs and flying dreams  
Hand in hand_

I remember the first time she nicked one of her brothers' brooms and took it out over the yard—this very yard, behind the Burrow. I'd have run out to stop her, but I've never been much use on a broom—and besides, Arthur had his hand on my arm and such a shining look in his eyes.

The first Weasley girl in generations was a true Weasley.

_Love, it seems,  
Made flying dreams  
So hearts could soar_

She didn't get serious about flying until the year before she started at Hogwarts. When she heard that Harry had become the youngest Seeker in a century, she decided she was going to be a Chaser. It was him that she was Chasing, of course, much more than the Quaffle. She spent more time on brooms than she thought anyone ever knew.

And when I saw her in the air, there was passion in her every movement.

_Heaven sent,  
These wings were meant  
To prove once more  
That love is the key  
Love is the key_

But then there came the disaster with the diary, and Harry had to rescue her. She was horrified that he would never see her as more than a silly, uncoordinated child and a "damsel in distress," needing to be rescued.

_You and I  
Touch the sky  
The eagle and the dove_

It was in her fifth year that he did see her as more—when he had to miss the final Quidditch game and she caught the Snitch in his place. She had stood with him in battle; she had played for him in Quidditch; and finally, or so she thought, he would be with her in love. Maybe she knew, back when she was flying over this yard of ours, that it would be in the air that she would catch him.

_Nightingales  
We keep our sails  
Filled with love_

When Harry told her he wouldn't let her be with him as he pursued He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, she told him she understood. I know exactly what she understood: She understood she hadn't won yet. But she would.

_And love, it seems,  
Made flying dreams  
To bring you home to me_

On Valentine's Day of her sixth year at Hogwarts, she flew into Harry's campsite carrying a cup that had belonged to Helga Hufflepuff. Together they melted it over a fire, holding each other for a greater warmth as the chilling vapor of You-Know-Who's' soul passed through their bodies.

_Love it seems  
Made flying dreams  
So hearts could soar_

From then on, they were inseparable; she promised me she would return to Hogwarts when he did, but no sooner. She had won. And that made it possible for Harry to win, too.

_Heaven sent  
These wings were meant  
To prove once more  
That love is the key  
Love is the key_

It was Harry's love for Ginny that made his victory possible. When He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named possessed Ginny in the final battle, he thought it would enable him to attack Harry, but prevent Harry from fighting back. Not realizing all his Horcruxes had been destroyed, he used his whole remaining soul to possess Ginny. When Ginny's body turned on Harry, Harry's love told him exactly what to do.

_You and I  
Touch the sky  
The eagle and the dove_

He would not hurt Ginny, but he would not let You-Know-Who hurt her by using her body to hurt him. He held her so she could not move, ignoring the battle that raged around them. When You-Know-Who's body fell limp, Ron and Hermione attacked it—and when Harry's love drove You-Know-Who from Ginny's body, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named had nowhere left to go. The last unloved bit of his soul could not preserve itself.

_Nightingales  
We keep our sails  
Filled with love_

But that didn't mean it couldn't fight. You-Know-Who held onto his rage as long as he could, and when he could do nothing else, he cast his soul into the air as a cruel curse. Ginny and Ron, Harry and Hermione all fell; Ron and Hermione, who had been further away, quickly arose and took Ginny and Harry, both unconscious, to St. Mungo's. I joined them there, waiting through that long afternoon, watching people try to mask their joy at You-Know-Who's demise when they saw my face and my anguish.

_Ever strong  
Our future song  
To sing it must be free_

Most of the Wizarding world breathed easily for the first time in years the day they learned that You-Know-Who was dead. And when that night's news spread, they found that one more dead hero into the bargain was hardly a loss to consider, even if it was the Boy-Who-Lived.

But my only thought was for Ginny. Harry had been her only love, from before I thought anyone _could _love that way. She had learned to fly with him in mind, and she had gone to war for his sake. She had looked forward to the time when they would be able to live and love without the monster who had once possessed her taking over their lives. I didn't know whether she could live knowing that Harry had died for her. But that night, the moment his body was levitated from the room, she awoke—and once again, it fell to me to tell her about Harry.

_Every part  
Is from the heart  
And love is still the key_

Ginny did live, for three glorious months—I don't like to say it that way, but she would have wanted me to. She helped defeat the recalcitrant Death Eaters, and as I held her in my arms for the last time, I was able to tell her that, thanks to her and her friends, every last one of Harry's enemies was under arrest, save only a few who had met a swifter justice. She was too weak to speak, but her heart was in her smile, and I could not have failed to understand what she was thinking:

Harry was waiting for her.

_And love, it seems,  
Made flying dreams  
To bring you home  
To me._


End file.
